It’s a Wonderful Life: The Christmas bestseller is back with an unforgettable holiday romance

A shrug. And nothing.

‘Come on, Jason, there must be something you’re interested in.’

‘Gaming,’ said Jason. ‘I’d like to work on computer games.’

‘That’s not a career,’ said Mrs Leigh in frustration. ‘I don’t think you’ll get a degree in computer games.’

‘You’d be surprised,’ said Daniel. He leaned forward, turned back to Jason. ‘So why didn’t you take computer sciences instead?’

‘Mum said I should do languages.’ Jason sneaked a stroppy look at his mum.

‘Those bloody computer games!’ said Mrs Leigh. ‘You spend far too much time on them.’

‘But I like them,’ said Jason, ‘and I’m good at them. I don’t need to go to uni to get a job in the gaming industry.’

‘But you could be the first person in the family to go to university!’ wailed his mum. ‘Honestly, Mr King, I’m sure your children don’t behave like this.’

‘I think all children behave like this, sometimes,’ said Daniel, thinking of Sam locking himself in the garage to play his drums for hours, spending as little time on his studies as Jason appeared to on his. Sam’s mocks hadn’t gone too well either. And Beth’s fury about it had evoked a shrug and a, ‘They’re only mocks,’ response. To Daniel’s dismay it had led to a massive row, and Beth and Sam hadn’t talked for a couple of days. Daniel was worried about Sam’s future too, but sometimes he thought Beth came down too hard on him and made it worse.

‘So that’s where you see your career, Jason?’ said Daniel.

‘Definitely,’ said Jason, brightening up. He began to talk knowledgeably and at length about the games that interested him and the world of computers till Daniel’s head was dizzy.

‘I could earn shedloads of money and not end up in debt,’ he finished. ‘Why should I even bother with uni?’

‘Jason!’ His mother was apoplectic, Daniel could see a vein bulging on her forehead. ‘But what security will you have? You have to go to uni, you have to.’

Daniel began to feel a little sorry for her, he knew just how hard it was being a parent at times. Particularly of a recalcitrant teen. He could imagine him and Beth having a similar conversation with Sam’s head teacher.

‘You might not need a degree to work in the gaming industry, Jason,’ he said, ‘but you’re a clever lad, and having qualifications never hurt anyone. You’ve only got a few months left with us, why not at least try to achieve what you’re capable of? There are kids in this school who would kill to have your opportunities. You shouldn’t waste them.’

‘I suppose.’

‘Mr King’s right, Jason,’ said his mother more gently. ‘It’s worth a try, isn’t it?’

Jason nodded imperceptibly, staring down at the table.

‘So what do you think?’ said Daniel. ‘Is it worth pushing yourself the extra mile for the next few months? It can’t hurt, can it?’

‘I guess not,’ said Jason.

‘So you’ll give it a go?’ Daniel said encouragingly.

Jason shrugged.

‘It’s up to you,’ said Daniel, ‘but, if you are going to take this seriously, you will need to attend the catch-up sessions your teachers are running. They give up their valuable time to help, Jason. I have to say, I think the least you could do is give it a try.’

Jason had the grace to look a little shamefaced at this.

‘Listen to Mr King,’ said Mrs Leigh, softening her tone a little. ‘I never had the chances you did. Don’t throw them away.’

‘And it’s not obligatory to go to uni this year,’ said Daniel. ‘You could take a year out, re-evaluate what you want to do. Why not go and see Mr Price in careers? He might have some suggestions for you.’

To his relief, this seemed to go down well, so by the time their conversation had drawn to a close, both Jason and his mum were smiling. Who knew, Jason might even surprise them all.

Daniel ushered them out and sat back down at his desk with a sigh. Jason Leigh was so very like Sam, who also thought school was pointless and was currently displaying no ambition whatsoever. Daniel hadn’t a clue how to get through to him. Whatever he said fell on deaf ears. Daniel was reluctant to be as overbearing as his own father had been, and had seen so many pushy parents over the years that he’d always taken a rather hands-off approach with his own children. Maybe, as Beth kept telling him, that had been a mistake.

‘Physician, heal thyself,’ he said, and got back to work, wondering how he was ever going to cross the chasm that existed between him and his son.

Chapter Three (#ulink_2276c8e4-e87d-52a8-8a20-ecbb69a11805)

Lou

It occurs to me as I get home with Mum and start unpacking the shopping that I should take my own advice. In the month since Jo ditched me and I got made redundant, I have been utterly miserable. I’m missing Jo badly, and resisting the urge to call her as I know that it won’t do any good. I have no money, and have been feeling so emotionally battered I can’t even think about work.

I can’t do anything about my relationship status, but getting a new job would go some way to restoring my low self-esteem. I’ve been feeling so unhappy, I haven’t bothered up till now. So when we get in, the first thing I do is sign up for some job agencies, and start looking for credit control opportunities. I wasn’t too long in my last job so my CV is up to date, and I know they’ll give me a good reference. It wasn’t as though they were unhappy with my work. It was just bad timing that I came into the company when things were starting to go badly. An unfortunate example of last in, first out.

I stare out of the window at the grey January day. It’s such a bleak month, especially when you’re unhappy. All that hope and expectation of Christmas gone, and nothing to look forward to. Maybe I should go away somewhere, get some winter sun, just to cheer myself up. In fact, maybe I should make Mum go with me. I can’t remember the last time she and Dad went away properly. It would give us both a chance to clear our heads. I have a little money saved up, and besides, what else are credit cards for?

I’ve just clicked on a website offering winter breaks when my phone buzzes. Jo. Oh fuck, I’m not ready for this. She’s sent me a couple of texts since the New Year, but I’ve ignored them. I’m not strong enough to cope with her yet.

How are you doing? Worried about you xxx

Really? Really? Why would she even care? She was the one who broke my heart. I’m so angry with her for saying this that I break my no contact rule and before I can stop myself I’m furiously typing out a reply.

You could have fooled me, I text back.

Don’t be like that, Lou Lou, is the response. Can’t we be friends?

Of course we can’t. I’m far too raw. What is she thinking? I want to text something angry back, but I know from bitter experience (oh, I have so much bitter experience!) that it won’t help, so I content myself with: Sorry, not ready for that yet. Maybe one day.

The phone beeps again. It seems such a shame. Didn’t we have some good times?

Yes, we did, I think, and then some not so good times. I had hoped that she was the real deal, that finally I’d found someone to share my life with, but for her I was clearly a little interlude. I can’t say any of that though, without sounding appallingly needy, and I won’t give her the satisfaction.

Sorry, Jo, that’s the way it is. Please don’t text me.

Not unless you want me back, I’d like to add, but I know that’s not going to happen.

I switch my phone off, and return to the website. A week in Tenerife looks like the best thing ever. Life’s too short to be miserable. I click on the link before I can change my mind, and quickly book our flights. Mum will probably think I’m interfering, but I reckon we both deserve the break.

Beth

The meeting is excruciating. It’s so weird having Jack sitting here, and for some reason I’m finding it hard to look him in the eye. From the outset it’s clear that Vanessa hates my drawings, and she makes her feelings very plain. There is no attempt at finesse, or trying to soften the blow. My initial warmth turns to hostility and by the time the meeting is halfway through, I am boiling with rage.

‘I just didn’t picture the Littlest Angel like this,’ she says. ‘I think she needs to be cuter.’

She does have a point. My angel looks sharper than I intended, and slightly demented. Cute she definitely is not.